


Untitled 02

by Ilyushka



Series: Tumblr Prompts [2]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Heavy Angst, M/M, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 12:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18660541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilyushka/pseuds/Ilyushka
Summary: Sometimes things got bad, and that heaviness felt as though it was pulling you beneath those treacherous waves. Yet that mop of white hair would appear grasping you by the wrist and pulling you to the surface. Asra was your life line.have i mentioned i rly hate titling things?





	Untitled 02

**Author's Note:**

> " I've been feeling very down recently, and I was wondering if you could write something regarding MC dealing with depression/suicidal thoughts? I like yo believe I'm not alone."

There’s a sort of heaviness that weighs down your body, makes it feel like your choking from the inside out. It’s hard to breathe these days. Your mind is not free from this weight; thoughts clouded till you can hardly form something worthwhile. It’s hard to think these days. There’s a guilt and uncertainty that accompanies these thoughts and feelings. How long have you felt this way? You can’t remember the last time your mind was clear and your body moved freely like leaves in the wind. Did you have a right to be feeling like this?

 

All things considered, things were good. You had a loving boyfriend who would give you the world if you would only ask. You had friends who made you laugh till your sides felt as though they would split open. You had a career doing what you loved, and things were good. Things were great.

 

Yet here you sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea accompanied by your thoughts of ending it. You try to ward them off telling yourself it’s not really what you want, only you know that’s a lie. You only don’t act on them from the feelings of guilt that fill your every fiber of your being. It’s a battle that you can’t win, you can’t escape the tug of war of wanting to end it all but being too afraid to do so.

 

What would Asra think if he stumbled upon your corpse? Would it be easier seeing you whole rather than a pile of ash? No, you don’t think so. You can’t bear the thought of putting him through that once more. Not after everything he’s done for you, everything you’ve been through together. You’d never be able to forgive yourself— not even in death. And what would he tell your friends? What would they think of your actions?

 

The overwhelming flow of thoughts never reaches a clear conclusion as they come to an abrupt halt. The sound of the soft creaking of floorboards flows through the stiff air around you. It seemed this was always the case, possibly a side effect of ‘sharing’ a heart. Sometimes things got bad, and that heaviness felt as though it was pulling you beneath those treacherous waves. Yet that mop of white hair would appear grasping you by the wrist and pulling you to the surface. Asra was your life line.

 

“Morning.” His voice is groggy, the lingering of sleep still clinging to him. You had been up for about an hour now, you didn’t have the heart to wake him up with you. Perhaps too entranced with the idea of destroying yourself with your thoughts, or not wanting to burden the love of your life any further. There was no clear reasoning for it, but that was in the past now.

 

He moves to pour himself a mug of tea as well, the kettle still sitting warm atop the stove. The silence is comfortable in comparison to the silence you sat in by yourself. It left a warmth to spread through your body, lifting some of that weight off you. He made it easier to breath and easier to think. There was something soothing about his presence that just kept the thoughts at bay.

 

He turns to look at you with a quirked brow, leaning back against the stove. Your face heats up slightly as you realize you never actually answered him. You offer him a sheepish smile as he sips from his drink. “Sorry,” You laugh softly. “Good morning.”

 

“Is everything okay?” He asks, purple eyes sweeping over you. His gaze was piercing, as though he was able to see behind the facade of stability you had built up. It seemed as though he was searching for any superficial cracks to show through.

 

You beat him to it, revealing your own vulnerabilities.

 

“Ah, no.” You answer honestly. You catch a look of worry washing over the man's face before your eyes avert. Staring deeply into your lukewarm mug of tea, you think over what to even say. You knew you could talk freely with this man, knew that he wouldn’t judge you or berate you. That didn’t make it any easier. The plea for help was lodged uncomfortably in your throat, unwilling to be heard.

 

“What’s wrong?” His voice is gentle as he moves from the stove to the table, taking a seat next to you.

 

Where did you even begin with something like this? Anything you could think to say would sound far too unceremonious but then you didn’t think there was a delicate way to put this. So you settle for blunt even as it brings waves of fear and regret to wash over you. “I want to die.”

 

You’re met with silence and that only intensifies your fear and regret. You can feel the tendrils of doubt curling along your skin, dragging you back down. It feels as though you’re drowning. Lifting your gaze, you move to look at him with nervous eyes. You aren’t met with a look of anger or pity, instead there’s unadulterated worry and sadness that shapes his face. You don’t think the look suits him.

 

“How long have you felt this way?” Setting his mug down he reaches out taking your hand in his and gives it a gentle squeeze. He appears deep in thought, not all here yet at the same time entirely present “Why didn’t you say anything?”

 

“I don’t know.” You answer teeth worrying your lower lip. You know you should have said something sooner. Should have spoken up when the thoughts first reared their heads yet you didn’t think to. Couldn't bring yourself to. “But I don’t want to feel like this.”

 

“I’m glad.” He lets out a sigh of relief over that and offers you a gentle smile. Lifting your hand to his lips, he presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “Let me help you through this; it’s not something you should do alone.”

 

The way he speaks of this is with such familiarity that you can’t help but let your heart break for him. Was this how he felt following your death? You nearly shudder at the thought. You wouldn’t put him through that again, you would get better for him. For yourself.

 

You smile at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling slightly. “Thank you, Asra. I truly don’t know what I’d do without you.”

 

He returns your smile, warmth spreading through the room at he looks at you. “Best not to think on it, I’m here for you now and forever.”

 


End file.
